I'M BACK

After a long summer working on the novel,I've come back. Though,it needs typing up and editing,it's finished. I have believeable characters,logical plot and sparkling dialogue. If you are wondering as to whether you're in it. Ask yourself,what do you know about me and what do I know about you?

The book gave me a slight break from poetry,I sometimes hate poetry. It's the bastard child of the arts. Grudgingly accepted as one of the family,but eats its dinner at the far end of the table,away from the grown ups(painting,film and popular music). Poetry sits between those other barely tolerated/appreciated arts:mime and modern dance.

There is one advantage to being a poet,that the other arts don't have. A painter has to know about proportion,perspective,colour and other technical skills. The musician must pay attention to rhythm,harmony,melody,chords and scales. The poet doesn't have that problem. Todays poet can (and gennerally does) reject:grammer,spelling,rhythm and even clarity.

All I need do,is listen to my inner voice,but when was it ever a good idea to listen to the voices in your head?

SANKT HANS AFTEN

The beach bonfire,

burns brighter than the

dying sun.

We talked over the noise of

rap & hip-hop.

Breathed in the aromatic smoke,

that blew in from the garden

on the summer breeze.

Soft as a lover's whisper.

We denied the passing hour,

morning would come soon enough.

No need to look at watches.

The shadows cast

strange shapes,

entangled limbs and waving arms.

Guttural cries and gasps,

hint at strange creatures

in the dark.

We shared everything:

stories,drinks,bodily fluids.

Feelings,we kept to ourselves.

The sun we watched leave,

woke us on its return.

Shapes lay in disarray,

legs and arms akimbo;

clothing rent.

I staggered to the kitchen to make coffee.

Poetry quote 'Although poets often have unusual powers of reflective thought,the specific genius of a poet doesn't lie there,but in the imagination. Therefore his deepest and most original interpretation is likely to come by way of the imagination. And the specific way of imagination is not to clothe in imagery consciously held iideas; it is to produce half consciously a matter from which when produced,the reader may,if he chooses,extract ideas'. A.C Badley.

If we are what we eat,then what we are is fucked,for some reason I can't put the link in,but go to YouTube and watch Food Inc.